Rain
by NoInspirationForMyUsername
Summary: Five people who hate the rain, and one who didn't. (Yes, I'm going cliché.) Short one-shot.


**Five People Who Hated The Rain, and One Who Didn't.**

_- Alphonse Elric_

It had rained that day.

To be precise: it had stormed. The thunder had roared outside of their house, the lightning had blinded the world, the two of them taking cover behind a curtain of rain.

Later, after the mistake was made, he had run through the night, red sliding from his armor, desperately trying to reach the Rockbells' house before his brother died. All he could hear was the clatter of rain.

That night, staring out of the window, all he could think was about how he hadn't felt a thing.

That night, he had felt hatred towards his brother. Hatred for Alphonse's only relative, hatred because he had been the one to propose the option of bringing back their mother. Hatred because it was all his brother's fault, not his, so WHY IN GODS' NAME WAS HE STUCK IN THIS HORRIBLE ARMOR?!

Of course, when he heard the first groans of pain next morning, the terrified sobbing and the cries _Sorry, Al, sorry, it should've been me, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry_, he realized how wrong he was.

Still, every time it rained, he couldn't help but feel the hatred he had felt back then.

And every time it rained, he couldn't feel more disgusted with himself.

_- Edward Elric_

Rain hurt. It was a fact of life. Well, for Edward Elric, at least.

Rain hurt on so many different levels. Rain hurt emotionally, because his brother had lost his body in the rain. Rain hurt because of the automail ports attached to his body. Rain hurt because he could see the pain in his brother every time it fell from the sky.

Al may not have a face to make expressions with, but his body language and the way he refused to look at Ed spoke for itself.

He knew his brother thought about _that day_ every time it rained.

He also knew the reason he couldn't look at his brother was because it was all Ed's fault.

The aching automail ports were just a reminder of what he had done.

The pain of his loss just a motivation.

The rain gave him strength.

At least, that's what he tried to tell himself.

(After all, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.)

(Right?)

_- Riza Hawkeye_

Rain, to First Lieutenant Hawkeye, was an inconvenience. Her commander was useless in the rain, therefore she had to work twice as hard to keep him safe. Sleep with two of her eyes open, always have a gun ready, keep the colonel busy with paperwork and away from all cases that could potentially lead to a promotion, that was he standard protocol on a rainy day.

However, it didn't always work. For example, the fight with Scar had been an fiasco. If she hadn't disobeyed the order to stand back... well, she didn't want to think about that.

For Riza, on the other hand, rain meant danger to a friend. A friend she really, _really_ didn't want to lose.

So, every time it rained, Riza's alarm was stuck on 'paranoid'.

And oh, how she hated it.

_- Greed_

To Greed, it was more the symbolic meaning behind water that he hated than the rain itself.

Water reminded him of the time that Wrath had captured him in the sewers, only to be killed shortly after, but that was really beside the point. No, he hated the thought that water could wash away everything.

If water washed away everything, he couldn't have it.

Therefore, he despised the rain.

_- Zolf Kimbley_

Things Kimbley loved:

- Explosions.

- The Ishvalan War.

- Death.

- Misery.

- The Philosopher's Stone.

- Power.

Things he disliked:

- Joy (in others, mind you).

- Children.

- Losing.

- Mercy.

- Chimera's.

Things he hated:

- Weaklings.

- Rain.

That last one was an rather strange thing for him to hate. He was aware of that, thank you very much. But he couldn't help it. In Ishval it hardly rained. The rain was a reminder that he wasn't in Ishval anymore, and didn't have the permission or the ability to kill anymore. It made him depressed.

The sounds of the tears of heaven used to be a soothing sound to him, like a lullaby. It was his favorite sound, once.

That was before he heard the cries of the ones about to die, the sobbing of women in need, the crashing of buildings and the whispers of fear. _Ahh, fear. _Shame that it had never been accompanied by the ticking of rain.

If it was, he might've pretended to be in his tent on the Ishvalan graveyard. (Because that was what it was. The land that once stood fierce was now the last home to thousands of its people.)

In his cell, Kimbley hummed a sweet little lullaby to drive the sounds of rain back.

_+ Roy Mustang_

It didn't rain in Ishval.

He had hated that.

If it had rained, he wouldn't have been able to kill all those innocents. Everyone knew he was useless in the rain, and no matter how much he hated being useless, he hated killing more.

To him, rain was an inhibitor. It reminded him of the fact that he wasn't invincible. No matter how powerful, no matter how strong, a single drop of water could still defeat him. It was something he needed.

He needed to be reminded that he wasn't some all-powerful god that could do what he wanted. He wasn't the one who should decide who lived and who died. He _had_ to be reminded of that.

Otherwise, he might lose his mind, like Kimbley had.

He needed to be stopped from losing his mind.

And that, the rain did just fine.


End file.
